Cameron of Lochiel

The toast was drunk with ardent enthusiasm.

In returning thanks, Archie said modestly:

"I am bewildered by so much praise for so simple a performance. I was probably the only one present who knew how to swim; for any one else would have done as I did. It is claimed that your Indian women throw their infants into the water and let them make the best of their way to shore; this teaches them to swim very early. I am tempted to believe that our mothers in the Scottish Highlands follow the same excellent custom. As long as I can remember I have been a swimmer."

"At your fooling again, Mr. Archie," said the captain. "As for me, I have been a sailor these fifty years, and I have never yet learned how to swim. Not that I have never fallen into the water, but I have always had the good luck to catch hold of something. Failing that, I always kept my feet going, as cats and dogs do. Sooner or later some one always hauled me out; and here I am.

"That reminds me of a little adventure which happened to me when I was a sailor. My ship was anchored by the banks of the Mississippi. It might have been about nine o'clock in the evening, after one of those suffocating days which one can experience only in the tropics. I had made my bed up in the bows of my ship, in order to enjoy the evening breezes. But for the mosquitoes, the sand flies, the black flies, and the infernal noise of the alligators, which had gathered, I think, from the utmost limits of the Father of Streams to give me a good serenading, a monarch of the East might have envied me my bed. I am not naturally timid, but I have an unconquerable horror of all kinds of reptiles, whether they crawl on land or wriggle in the water."

"Captain, you have a refined and aristocratic taste which does you much honor," said Jules.

"Do you dare to speak to me again, you disreputable," cried Marcheterre, shaking his great fist at him. I was about forgetting you, but your turn will come very soon. Meanwhile, I go on with my story. I was feeling very safe and comfortable on my mat, whence I could hear the hungry monsters snapping their jaws. I derided them, saying: 'You would be delighted, my lambs, to make a meal off my carcass, but there's one little difficulty in the way of it; though you should have to fast all your lives through like hermits I would never be the one to break your fasting, for my conscience is too tender.'

"I don't know exactly how the thing happened, but I ended by falling asleep, and when I awoke I was in the midst of these jolly companions. You could never imagine the horror that seized me, in spite of my customary coolness. I did not lose my presence of mind, however. While under water I remembered that there was a rope hanging from the bowsprit. As I came to the surface I had the good fortune to catch it. I was as active as a monkey in those days; but I did not escape without leaving as a keepsake in the throat of a very barbarous alligator one of my boots and a valued portion of the calf of my leg.

"Now for your turn, you imp," continued the captain, turning to Jules. "I must get even with you, sooner or later, for the trick you played me. On my return from Martinique last year, I met monsieur one morning in Quebec Lower Town as he was on the point of crossing the river to return home for his vacation. After a perfect squall of embraces, from which I escaped with difficulty by sheering off to larboard, I commissioned him to tell my family of my arrival, and to say that I could not be at St. Thomas for several days. What did this young saint do? He went to my house at eight o'clock in the evening, shouting, like all possessed: 'Oh, joy! oh, rapture! Three cheers and a tiger!'

"'My husband has come!' exclaimed Madame Marcheterre. 'Father has come!' cried my two daughters.

"'Certainly,' said he; 'what else could I be making all this fuss about?'

"Then he kissed my good wife – there was no great difficulty in that. He wanted to kiss the girls, too, but they boxed his ears and sheered off with all sails set. What does your reverence think of this for a beginning, to say nothing of what followed?"

"Ah, Mr. Jules," cried the old priest, "these are nice things I am hearing about you. Queer conduct this for a pupil of the Jesuit fathers."

"You see, Mr. Abbé," said Jules, "that all that was only a bit of fun to enable me to share the happiness of that estimable family. I knew too well the ferocious virtue, immovable as the Cape of Storms, of these daughters of the sea. I well knew that they would box my ears soundly and sheer off with all sails set."

"I begin to believe that you are telling the truth, after all," said the old priest, "and that there were no evil designs on your part. I know my Jules pretty thoroughly."

"Worse and more of it," said the captain. "Take his part, do; that's all he was wanting. But we'll see what you think when you hear the rest. When my young gentleman had finished his larking, he said to my wife: 'The captain told me to say he would be here to-morrow evening, in the neighborhood of ten o'clock, and that, as his business had prospered exceedingly (which, indeed, was all true), he wished that his friends should celebrate his good luck with him. He wished that there should be a ball and supper going on at his house when he arrived, which would be just as the guests were sitting down to table. Make ready, therefore, for this celebration, to which he has invited myself and my brother de Lochiel. This puts me out a little,' added the young hypocrite, 'for I am in a great hurry to get home, but for you ladies there is nothing that I would not do.'

"'My husband does not consider that he is giving me too little time,' said Madame Marcheterre. 'We have no market here. My cook is very old to undertake so much in one day. The case is desperate, but to please him we must accomplish the impossible.'

"'Perhaps I can be of some use to you,' said the hypocrite, pretending to sympathize with her. 'I will undertake with pleasure to send out the invitations.'

"'My dear Jules,' said my wife, 'that would be the greatest help. You know our society. I give you carte blanche.'

"My wife ran all over the parish to get provisions for the feast. She and the girls spent the greater part of the night helping the old cook make pastries, whipped creams, blanc-mange, biscuits, and a lot of sweet stuff that I wouldn't give for one steak of fresh codfish, such as one gets on the Banks of Newfoundland. Mr. Jules, for his part, did things up in style. That night he sent out two messengers, one to the northeast, the other to the southwest, carrying invitations; so that by six o'clock the next evening, thanks to his good management, my house was full of guests, who were whirling around like so many gulls, while I was anchored in Quebec, and poor madame, in spite of a frightful cold, was doing the honors of the house with the best grace possible. What do you think, gentlemen, of a trick like that; and what have you to say in your defense, you wolf in sheep's clothing?"

"I wished," said Jules, "that everybody should share beforehand in the joy of the family over the good fortune of so dear and so generous a friend. Also, if you could have seen the regret and general consternation when, toward eleven o'clock, it was found necessary to sit down at table without waiting for you any longer, you would certainly have been moved to tears. The morrow, you will remember, was a fast day. As for your wife, she seems to be without the smallest idea of gratitude. Observing, a little before eleven, that she was in no hurry to bring on the supper, and that she was beginning to be anxious about her dear husband, I whispered a word in her ear, and for thanks she broke her fan over my back."

Everybody, the captain himself included, burst out laughing.

"How is it you never told us of this before, Marcheterre?" said the Seigneur de Beaumont.

"It was hardly necessary," said the captain, "to publish it to the world that we had been tricked by this young rascal. Moreover, it would have been no particular satisfaction to us to inform you that you owed the entertainment to the munificence of Mr. Jules D'Haberville; we preferred to have the credit of it ourselves. I only tell it to you to-day because it is too good to keep any longer."

"It seems to me, Mr. Diver," continued Marcheterre, addressing Archie, "that, in spite of your reserved and philosophical demeanor, you were an accomplice of Master Jules."

"I give you my word," replied Lochiel, "that I knew nothing of it whatever. Not till the next day did Jules take me into his confidence, whereupon I gave him a good scolding."

"You could hardly say much," said Jules, "after the rate at which you kicked round your great Scotch legs with great peril to the more civilized shins of your neighbors. You have doubtless forgotten that, since you were not content with French cotillons, such as are accepted among all civilized people, to please you we had to have Scotch reels. The music for these our fiddler picked up by ear in an instant. It was a very simple matter; he merely had to scrape his strings till they screeched as if a lot of cats were shut up in a bag and some one were pulling their tails."

"Oh, you are a bad lot," said the captain; "but won't you come and take supper with us to-morrow, you and your friend, and make your peace with the family?"

"That's the way to talk, now!" said Jules.

"Listen to the irrepressible," retorted Marcheterre.

As it was now very late, the party broke up, after drinking the health of the old sailor and his son and pronouncing the eulogies they deserved for the part they had played that night.

The young men had to stay some days at St. Thomas. The flood continued. The roads were deluged. The nearest bridge, even supposing it had escaped the general disaster, was some leagues southwest of the village, and the rain came down in torrents. They were obliged to wait till the river should be clear of ice, so as to cross in a boat below the falls. They divided their time between the seigneur's family, their other friends, and poor Dumais, whom the seigneur would not permit to be moved. The sick man entertained them with stories of his fights against the English and their savage allies, and with accounts of the manners and customs of the aborigines.

"Although I am a native of St. Thomas," said Dumais one day, "I was brought up in the parish of Sorel. When I was ten years old and my brother nine, while we were in the woods one day picking raspberries a party of Iroquois surprised and captured us. After a long march, we came to the place where their canoe was hidden among the brambles by the water's edge; and they took us to one of the islands of the St. Lawrence. My father and his three brothers, armed to the teeth, set out to rescue us. They were only four against ten; but I may say without boasting that my father and my uncles were not exactly the kind of men to be trifled with. They were tall, broad-chested fellows, with their shoulders well set back.

"It might have been about ten o'clock in the evening. My brother and I, surrounded by our captors, were seated in a little clearing in the midst of thick woods, when we heard my father's voice shouting to us: 'Lie flat down on your stomachs.' I immediately seized my little brother around the neck and flattened him down to the ground with me. The Iroquois were hardly on their feet when four well-aimed shots rang out and four of the band fell squirming like eels. The rest of the vermin, not wishing, I suppose, to fire at hazard against the invisible enemies to whom they were serving as targets, started for the shelter of the trees; but our rescuers gave them no time. Falling upon them with the butts of their muskets, they beat down three at the first charge, and the others saved themselves by flight. Our mother almost died of joy when we were given back to her arms."

In return, Lochiel told the poor fellow about the combats of the Scottish Highlanders, their manners and customs, and the semi-fabulous exploits of his hero, the great Wallace; while Jules amused him with the story of his practical jokes, or with such bits of history as he might appreciate.

When the young men were bidding Dumais farewell, the latter said to Archie with tears in his eyes:

"It is probable, sir, that I shall never see you again, but be sure that I will carry you ever in my heart, and will pray for you, I and my family, every day of our lives. It is painful for me to think that even should you return to New France, a poor man like me would have no means of displaying his gratitude."

"Who knows," said Lochiel, "perhaps you will do more for me than I have done for you."

Was the Highlander gifted with that second sight of which his fellow-countrymen are wont to boast? Let us judge from the sequel.

On the 30th day of April, at ten o'clock in the morning, with weather magnificent but roads altogether execrable, our travelers bade farewell to their friends at St. Thomas. They had yet six leagues to go before arriving at St. Jean-Port-Joli, and the whole distance they had to travel afoot, cursing at the rain which had removed the last traces of ice and snow. In traversing the road across the plain of Cape St. Ignace it was even worse. They sank to their knees, and their horse was mired to the belly and had to be dug out. Jules, the most impatient of the three, kept grumbling:

"If I had had anything to do with the weather we would never have had this devil of a rain which has turned all the roads into bogholes."

Perceiving that José shook his head whenever he heard this remark, he asked him what he meant.

"Oh, Master Jules," said José, "I am only a poor ignorant fellow, but I can't help thinking that if you had charge of the weather we shouldn't be much better off. Take the case of what happened to Davy Larouche."

"When we get across this cursed boghole," said Jules, "you shall tell us the story of Davy Larouche. Oh, that I had the legs of a heron, like this haughty Scotchman who strides before us whistling a pibroch just fit for these roads."

"What would you give," said Archie, "to exchange your diminutive French legs for those of the haughty Highlander?"

"Keep your legs," retorted Jules, "for when you have to run away from the enemy."

Once well across the meadow, the young men asked José for his story.

"I must tell you," said the latter, "that a fellow named Davy Larouche once lived in the parish of St. Roch. He was a good enough provider, neither very rich nor very poor. I used to think that the dear fellow was not quite sharp enough, which prevented him making great headway in the world.

"It happened that one morning Davy got up earlier than usual, put through his chores in the stable, returned to the house, fixed his whiskers as if it were Sunday, and got himself up in his best clothes.

"'Where are you going, my good man?' asked his wife. 'What a swell you are! Are you going to see the girls?'

"You must understand that this was a joke of hers; she knew that her husband was bashful with women, and not at all inclined to run after them. As for La Thèque herself, she was the most facetious little body on the whole south side, inheriting it from her old Uncle Bernuchon Castonguay. She often used to say, pointing to her husband, 'You see that great fool yonder?' Certainly not a very polite way to speak of her husband. 'Well, he would never have had the pluck to ask me in marriage, though I was the prettiest girl in the parish, if I had not met him more than half-way. Yet, how his eyes used to shine whenever he saw me! I took pity on him, because he wasn't making much progress. To be sure, I was even more anxious about it than he; he had four good acres of land to his name, while I had nothing but this fair body of mine.'

"She was lying a little to be sure, the puss," added José. "She had a cow, a yearling bull, six sheep, her spinning-wheel, a box so full of clothes that you had to kneel on it to shut it, and in the box fifty silver francs.

"'I took pity on him one evening,' said she, 'when he called at our house and sat in the corner without even daring to speak to me. "I know you are in love with me, you great simpleton," said I. "Go and speak to my father, who is waiting for you in the next room, and you can get the banns published next Sunday." Moreover, since he sat there without budging and as red as a turkey-cock, I took him by the shoulders and pushed him into the other room. My father opened a closet and brought out a flask of brandy to encourage him. Well, in spite of all these hints, he had to get three drinks into his body before he found his tongue.'

"Well, as I was saying," continued José, "La Thèque said to her husband: 'Are you going to see the girls, my man? Look out for yourself! If you get off any pranks I will let you into the soup.'

"'You know very well I'm not,' said Larouche laughingly, and flicking her on the back with his whip. 'Here we are at the end of March, my grain is all thrashed out, and I'm going to carry my tithes to the priest.'

"'That's right, my man,' said his wife, who was a good Christian; 'we must render back to God a share of what he has just given us.'

"Larouche then threw his sacks upon the sled, lit his pipe with a hot coal, sprang aboard, and set off in high spirits.

"As he was passing a bit of woods he met a traveler, who approached by a side path.

"This stranger was a tall, handsome man of about thirty. Long fair hair fell about his shoulders, his blue eyes were as sweet as an angel's, and his countenance wore a sort of tender sadness. His dress was a long blue robe tied at the waist. Larouche said he had never seen any one so beautiful as this stranger, and that the loveliest woman was ugly in comparison.

"'Peace be with you, my brother,' said the traveler.

"'I thank you for your good wishes,' answered Davy; 'a good word burns nobody's mouth. But that is something I don't particularly need. I am at peace, thank God, with everybody. I have an excellent wife, good children, we get on well together, all my neighbors love me. I have nothing to desire in the way of peace.'

"'I congratulate you,' said the traveler. 'Your sled is well loaded; where are you going this morning?'

"'It is my tithes which I am taking to the priest.'

"'It would seem, then,' said the stranger, 'that you have had a good harvest, reckoning one measure of tithes to every twenty-six measures of clean grain.'

"'Good enough, I confess; but if I had had the weather just to my fancy it would have been something very much better.'

"'You think so,' said the traveler.

"'No manner of doubt of it,' answered Davy.

"'Very well,' said the stranger; 'now you shall have just what weather you wish, and much good may it do you.'

"Having spoken thus, he disappeared around the foot of a little hill.

"'That's queer now,' thought Davy. 'I know very well that there are wicked people who go about the world putting spells on men, women, children, or animals. Take the case of the woman, Lestin Coulombe, who, on the very day of her wedding, made fun of a certain beggar who squinted in his left eye. She had good cause to regret it, poor thing; for he said to her angrily: "Take care, young woman, that your own children don't turn out cross-eyed." She trembled, poor creature, for every child she brought into the world, and not without good cause; for the fourteenth, when looked at closely, showed a blemish on its right eye.'"

"It seems to me," said Jules, "that Madame Lestin must have had a mighty dread of cross-eyed children if she could not be content to present her dear husband with one even after twenty years of married life. Evidently she was a thoughtful and easy-going woman, who took her time about whatever she was going to do."

José shook his head with a dubious air and continued:

"'Well,' thought Larouche to himself, 'though bad folk go about the country putting spells on people, I have never heard of saints wandering around Canada to work miracles. After all, it is no business of mine. I won't say a word about it, and we'll see next spring.'

"About that time the next year Davy, very much ashamed of himself, got up secretly, long before daylight, to take his tithes to the priest. He had no need of horse or sleigh. He carried the whole thing in his handkerchief.

"As the sun was rising he once more met the stranger, who said to him:

"'Peace be with you, my brother!'

"'Never was wish more appropriate,' answered Larouche, 'for I believe the devil himself has got into my house, and is kicking up his pranks there day and night. My wife scolds me to death from morn till eve, my children sulk when they are not doing worse, and all my neighbors are set against me.'

"'I am very sorry to hear it,' said the traveler, 'but what are you carrying in that little parcel?'

"'My tithes,' answered Larouche, with an air of chagrin.

"'It seems to me, however,' said the stranger, 'that you have been having just the weather you asked for.'

"'I acknowledge it,' said Davy. 'When I asked for sunshine, I had it; when I wanted rain, wind, calm weather, I got them; yet nothing has succeeded with me. The sun burned up the grain, the rain caused it to rot, the wind beat it down, the calm brought the night frosts. My neighbors are all bitter against me; they regard me as a sorcerer, who has brought a curse on their harvests. My wife began by distrusting me, and has ended by heaping me with reproaches. In a word, it is enough to drive one crazy.'

"'Which proves to you, my brother,' said the traveler, 'that your wish was a foolish one; that one must always trust to the providence of God, who knows what is good for man better than man can know it for himself. Put your trust in him, and you will not have to endure the humiliation of having to carry your tithes in a handkerchief.'

"With these words, the stranger again disappeared around the hill.

"Larouche took the hint, and thenceforth acknowledged God's providence, without wishing to meddle with the weather."

As José brought his tale to an end, Archie said: "I like exceedingly the simplicity of this legend. It has a lofty moral, and at the same time it displays the vivid faith of the habitants of New France. Shame on the heartless philosopher who would deprive them of that whence they derive so many a consolation in the trials of life!

"It must be confessed," continued Archie later, when they were at a little distance from the sleigh, "that our friend José has always an appropriate story ready; but do you believe that his father really told him that marvelous dream that was dreamed on the hillsides of St. Michel?"

"I perceive," said Jules, "that you do not yet know José's talents; he is an inexhaustible raconteur. The neighbors gather in our kitchen on the long winter evenings, and José spins them a story which often goes on for weeks. When he feels his imagination beginning to flag he breaks off, and says: 'I'm getting tired; I'll tell you the rest another day.'

"José is also a much more highly esteemed poet than my learned uncle the chevalier, who prides himself on his skill in verse. He never fails to sacrifice to the Muses either on flesh days or on New Year's Day. If you were at my father's house at such times, you would see messengers arrive from all parts of the parish in quest of José's compositions."

"But he does not know how to write," said Archie.

"No more do his audience know how to read," replied Jules. "This is how they work it. They send to the poet a good chanter (chanteux), as they call him, who has a prodigious memory; and, presto! inside of half an hour said chanter has the whole poem in his head. For any sorrowful occasion José is asked to compose a lament; and if it be an occasion of mirth he is certain to be in demand. That reminds me of what happened to a poor devil of a lover who had taken his sweetheart to a ball without being invited. Although unexpected, they were received with politeness, but the young man was so awkward as to trip the daughter of the house while dancing, which raised a shout of laughter from all the company. The young girl's father, being a rough fellow and very angry at the accident, took poor José Blais by the shoulders and put him out of the house. Then he made all manner of excuses to the poor girl whose lover had been so unceremoniously dismissed, and would not permit her to leave. On hearing of this, our friend José yonder was seized with an inspiration, and improvised the following naïve bit of verse: